


If You'd Like

by BootyAlchemist



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Awkward Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Post-Canon, these dorks I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootyAlchemist/pseuds/BootyAlchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naoto preferred to face every dilemma with logic and investigation, but sometimes it's best to just be direct about what one wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You'd Like

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically why you should never just give me paper/a blank doc at 3am while I'm waiting on a Beta to okay something and say "just write whatever." Because apparently "whatever" then means "awkward smut of my favorite pairing." Also, I'm rather long-winded. Sorry.
> 
> Inspired by this fantastic bit of fan art of these two dorks being awkward: serenity-fails.tumblr.com/post/28889871183/ 
> 
> Post-Game(s), though the exact time-frame is intentionally unspecified (hence why I chose "didn't use warnings," since whether or not this is underage depends on when you interpret on this happening).

“Please, tell me yer jokin’,” Kanji said, his voice muffled due to the fact that his face was currently buried in his hands. “Please tell me ya ain’t seriously—!”

“Nothing about this is a joke, Kanji.” Naoto looked at him with as straight a face as she could manage, despite the fact that it was probably an even deeper shade of red than his own. She fidgeted slightly from where she sat at the front end of her bed. She flipped back and forth between several of the papers she’d printed on this… subject. “If this situation is one we… wish to, er, incorporate into our relationship, then we need to—to address it in a healthy, responsible manner.” Blast it, she was supposed to stay composed throughout this. She’d rehearsed about half of what she’d planned to say several times.

Regardless, it was important that they address the… issue; they’d already gotten mildly— yet dangerously—carried away twice, caught up in the moment. It’d only been their mutual embarrassment—neither had any experience with such a situation nor knew how to handle one—that had stopped them. Both had happened here, in her bedroom, on her bed, during particularly heated sessions of—to use the common term—making out. The first time, she’d experienced a surge of courage and had pulled him down closer, trying to bring his body against hers. Her confusion at his sudden hesitation was instantly cleared when her leg brushed against his clothed erection—she wasn’t the least bit naïve; she’d known what it was immediately. She’d attempted to console the then-mortified Kanji, and to hide that she was probably just as surprised and self-conscious as he was. Perhaps the latter been a mistake.

She hadn’t been able to hide it on the second occasion, however, when Kanji had been the one to grow a bit bolder. He’d broken from their kiss, allowing her to attempt to recover her breath while his lips had trailed down the side of her face and neck. When he’d placed a kiss on center of the base of her neck, just above the collarbone, she’d let out a moan that’d caused both of them to freeze and blink at each other for a long moment. Completely uncertain of the proper manner to address the reaction—or even how she _wanted_ to address it—Naoto had pulled away until her back was against the wall at the side of her bed, and brought her knees to her head, burying her face against them to hide how red it was and apologizing repeatedly. Kanji hadn’t said anything, just sat a little closer and put a trembling hand on her shoulder, resting his head on top of hers.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to engage in sexual activity with him. They’d been in a relationship for a while now—much to the relief of their friends—and she’d grown even more comfortable around him. The long silences were no longer the tense awkwardness they had been, where they’d struggled to find something to say, something that they could be confident would be welcomed conversation. They could simply take comfort in one another’s presence. She’d dropped using an honorific with his name in private relatively early on—she had slipped a few times before they’d actually started the relationship—and now used it only about half of the time in public; she didn’t use one when they were with the Team at all. She’d even allowed him—asked, to be honest—to spend the night a couple of times, permitting him to share her company in sleep. It had been particularly welcome during the winter months; Kanji was always very warm. And, during their kissing sessions—usually initiated by her—she found that she wanted to let her hands wander—and had a couple of times—and wished that he would. A warm bundle of nerves would build in her gut, causing her arms to shake and the muscles throughout her body to ache. It… wasn’t an unpleasant experience.

So, yes, she wanted to progress things further. But, it had to be done properly. She couldn’t allow it to just happen—nothing ever _just happened_ to Naoto Shirogane.

Except for their relationship; they’d more or less stumbled into it on accident when her subconscious knowledge of his attraction had snapped into conscious acknowledgement and she’d—without thinking—confronted him immediately about it. After his initial panic had calmed down, he’d assured her that his feelings weren’t important, that their friendship came first, that she didn’t even have to tell him no, because it was obvious that she could never—and she’d blurted out that it was mutual.

And, then, there was their original friendship—she hadn’t expected to bond with the group of teenagers she’d initially been investigating, but after her plan to get herself kidnapped had resulted in her caught up in a situation that _still_ didn’t seem real, she’d suddenly found herself surrounded by people her age who had seen her deepest insecurities—and still wanted to be her friends.

So maybe things _did_ actually _just happen_ to her.

But, this?

This, she had to be in control of.

It had to be done right. Responsibly. Safely. Respectably. With continuous enthusiastic consent from both parties.

And, a number of other guidelines she’d found in her research on what constituted a proper, healthy sexual relationship.

And, damn, she was being clinical about the whole thing.

“F-for example,” she eventually continued, unable to stop stammering, “we sh-should likely both establish a s-set of g-ground rules re-regarding known… discomforts and… and sensitive—Kanji?” She cut herself off, trying to ignore how hot her face had become.

Kanji’s face was half-turned away, still buried in his hands, his black hair completely disheveled, the bangs irregularly splayed over his fingers. He’d taken his glasses off at some point—they were on a shelf of the nearby bookcase. What little she could see of his face was a shade of red deeper than she’d ever witnessed from him—even compared to the time she’d first told him she loved him.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled. “I-I just… just….” He made an incoherent noise.

Taking the following silence as a cue to continue, she returned her gaze to the papers in her hands.

“B-beyond aspects of p-personal pref-preferences, there are also oth-other responsibilities that n-need addressing, such as v-various forms of con-contraceptives and lu—”

“Naoto!” Kanji looked at her, removing his face from his hands. “Wh-what. Why. I mean….” He struggled to start a sentence. “Why’re ya doin’ this?” His face paled, and he looked at the papers in her hands. “I-I mean. Uh. I ‘preciate the, uh, effort, and alla that, but….” He cleared his throat. “Ya… ya don’ gotta print out a manu—wait.” He blinked, looking her in the eye again. “Ya don’ do things unless ya have a reason. Why. Uh. Why’d ya go through alla this trouble? I ain’t expectin’ ya to, uh….” He looked away. “Ya know.”

Naoto exhaled—she hadn’t realized how long she’d been holding her breath.

“I should expect that my motivations should be simple enough to deduce.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. She looked at the floor.

“Oh.” Kanji’s voice was equally soft. “Oh!” He nearly barked. “Y-ya mean… ya mean, _you_ want ta—?”

“I mean to say,” Naoto gave up trying to ignore how hot her face was, “I am… very amendable… on the subject.” She placed the papers on the bed, on the opposite side of her from him.

“Oh,” Kanji breathed. “Oh—oh—okay. Ye-yeah. Okay.”

Naoto glanced up slightly to look at him from the corner of her eye.

He was looking slightly away, still staring at the floor. His face had drained of all color. His hand was resting on the bed, between them. Naoto took a deep breath, before reaching out and lightly resting her hand next to it, laying her pinky over his.

“Th-th-tha’s!” Kanji stammered. He cleared his throat again. “Tha’s cool,” his voice was mildly strained as he clearly attempted to sound as nonchalant as he could.

“A-are you… okay wi-with that?” Naoto managed to ask, looking at him more directly.

“Yeah!” Kanji turned sharply to face her. His red turned red again, and he glanced away slightly. “I-I mean. S-sure. I, uh, I’d be c-cool wi’ that.” He coughed once into his free hand. “Uh. D-did you…? I-I mean, do you… uh, wh-when would ya, uh… a-and, where? A-and….” He inhaled and exhaled slowly clearly trying to steady his voice. “Why? If tha’s all right ta ask.”

“It’s always all right, Kanji,” she said softly, drawing herself closer to place her free hand lightly against his cheek. “A-and, in order, er, wh-whenever we are in mutual agreement; it w-would likely be best if we keep… things confined to my apartment, in o-order to prevent discovery. And.” She removed her hands, bringing them to her lap and laying them against each other. “I-I want…. I would greatly… because I…. You are quite… and I….” She cleared her throat.

Kanji stood up, placing a hand on her shoulder without looking at her.

“’S all right. Ya don’ gotta…. Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize.” She stood up next to him. Her waistcoat and tie suddenly felt even tighter than before. The fact that she’d chosen to bind her chest today—something she didn’t always do as of late, nor did she bind anywhere near as tightly as she once had—was likely not assisting the matter, either.

Kanji’s white, buttoned shirt was open over his dark purple tank top—he always adjusted to the gradually warming weather of spring faster than she did.

“So, uh,” Kanji scratched at the back of his neck, “we, uh—hmm!” He cleared his throat loudly. “We, uh, gotta… get stuff… fer this. Right?” He stared at the floor. “I mean, i-if… wh-when we… we gotta do it, uh, pr-properly, right?”

Naoto smiled.

He truly did understand.

Naoto quickly ran a hand through her hair.

“That won’t be necessary, for the time being.”

“H-huh?” Kanji blinked at her.

“I have, er….” She nodded towards her nightstand. “I was… uncertain how today would… so, I proceeded to… prepare for at least… the basics.” She exhaled slowly. There was no need to be so childish about it. She needed to be straightforward. “I have already taken the liberty of discreetly purchasing condoms and the proper lubrication.”

“Oh!” Kanji’s face reddened further, the blush extending to his ears and starting down his neck. “O-okay. C-cool.” He made an incoherent sound. “So, you, uh. Right.”

Frustration built up in Naoto’s stomach, in more than one manner.

Rehearsing the proper things to say hadn’t worked, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask Kanji to read what she’d researched; the poor guy would probably pass out from blood loss through his nose. Perhaps she needed to assert a little more control of the situation.

She pulled her tie out from under her waistcoat.

“Kanji.”

“Wh-whadaya doin’?” Kanji stared at her, as she reached up and lightly grabbed the back of his head with one hand, bringing in down towards her. She raised a single eyebrow—she should think it would be evident by this point—before she lifted herself up on her toes to press her lips against his.

Most of their kisses, chaste or otherwise, were initiated by her. It wasn’t as if Kanji didn’t reciprocate her desire for the contact. In fact—much like in this moment—he was generally quite enthusiastic, especially now that they had some practice to build confidence in both of them. She felt his hands slowly cup the back of her neck with both hands. The usual tremble of his fingers was equally as comforting—they were both as nervous as ever. She gently parted his lips with hers, placing her free hand flat against his chest.

He let out a noise of surprise, muffled against her mouth, as she slowly pushed him back and down onto her bed again. She followed, staying above him without breaking the kiss. He made a contented humming sound as she brought her hand up to the side of his neck and sat down in his lap, straddling him.

She slowly nudged his mouth open again, tentatively tracing his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. She felt him attempt to inhale sharply. Taking this as an encouragement, she slipped her tongue past his lips, scraping lightly against teeth before pressing gently against his. She barely had time to register the pressure of the moist warmth—and how it made that bundle of nerves twist in her stomach—before she felt his moan vibrate against her mouth.

She pulled back sharply, breaking the kiss with a soft pop. They blinked at each other for a moment, their breathing short and shallow, faces a mutual shade of red, before Naoto turned away, hiding her face while wiping her mouth with one hand.

“S-Sorry!” She said, wishing she had her hat to hide her face better with. “I—I shouldn’t have—!”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Kanji’s voice cut her off. “I, uh, actually… yeah.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh. N-now?” His hands slid down to rest on her arms, just past her shoulders. “You… want to try… now, then?”

Naoto looked at him. It hadn’t been the first time she’d seen that burning glint in his eyes, but it was the first time he hadn’t caught himself and looked away, cooling himself. She looked him in the eyes, trying to calm the nerves that were sending jolts up and down her spine and to return that hard look.

“I-If you are agreeable to the offer,” she couldn’t quite shake the mild anxiety from her voice, “then yes, I thought we might… see where we go. But, I don’t want to force anything on you that you do not desire or do not feel ready for.”

“Naoto.” He said her same in the steadiest voice he’d managed since she’d brought him into her room today. “I… I’m v-very cool with this.” He took a deep breath. “If y-you are. I-I mean, I….” He looked away slightly, his cheeks still tinted red. “I don’ really know what I’m doin’ here. Uh. I-I mean—! I _know_ what—I mean—!” He gave a nervous chuckle. “I know the basic—yeah! But, uh….” He lowered his voice. “I’m not sure what you… how to….”

Naoto slowly raised her hand, cupping Kanji’s cheek with a single, gentle hand.

“Would you like to read the pamphlets I printed?”

Kanji made an incoherent, half-choking sound.

“Ya gotta real twisted sense of humor sometimes, ya know that?” Kanji gave a short laugh. “I don’ need that stuff. They aren’t you. No piece of paper will tell me what ya want; tha’s why I gotta ask ya.” He paused. “Tha’s the answer, isn’ it?”

“Yes.” Naoto smiled. “I suppose it is. It’s a logical conclusion; all successful relationships are dependent on a base of healthy communication.” She paused. “I’m talking too much, again, aren’t I?”

“’S all right.” Kanji simply smiled, before clearing his throat for the umpteenth time that day. “So, uh. What—uh, I mean, wh-whadaya want ta start with?” His face reddened again. “I-I mean—! Aw, geeze. There’s no un-creepy way ta ask that, huh?”

“It is perfectly fine.” Naoto brushed against the hair on the nape of his neck with her free hand. “I suppose we could start in the simplest manner.”

“Huh?” Was all Kanji managed to blurt, before she kissed him again, much more forcefully than the previous one. They fell into their usual rhythm, though the building heat in her gut gave hers an edge bordering on hunger. The hand on his neck rose, her fingers intertwining in his hair. He muttered something against her lips, the word muffled beyond recognition, before slipping his hands up from her shoulders to gently hold her neck while he reciprocated her enthusiasm.

A major upside to sitting in Kanji’s lap in moments like this was it eased the height difference between them a significant amount; reducing the stress kissing would put on both of their necks.

It also allowed her to take better advantage of the warmth of his body; something that was extremely welcome in the still-freezing weather.

She broke from the kiss, inhaling sharply. She pressed the side of her forehead against his, their breathing hot against one another’s cheeks.

“May I…?” Naoto said, her voice low from breathlessness.

Kanji made a half-grunt sound, nodding slightly against the side of her head.

She responded by pressing a kiss against his cheek. She followed it with several more, down the side of his neck, stopping at his shoulder for a moment. She brought one hand down to his opposite shoulder. She used the other to lightly—barely touching—trace the contours of his arm, of each muscle, while she slowly kissed along his collarbone. He moaned as she reached the hollow—much like she had the other day—and his hands released her neck to hold her gently around the waist, pulling her closer against him.

They both froze, as Naoto found herself pressed against something more than _warmth_.

“S-sorry,” Kanji said with a nervous chuckle, focusing his gaze on the nearby bookshelf instead of her. “I-I guess I, uh… yeah. Sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” Naoto said quietly, somehow able to keep her voice steady. “It is the… ultimate point of… this, after all.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. I guess it is.”

 _It would appear that he is… easily excited._ Naoto felt the hairs on her neck stand.

Yet, she felt those nerves in her gut churn with a bit more heat, sending a brief jolt up her back.

 _Hypocrite_ , a soft voice—a irritatingly deeper version of her own—whispered in the back of her mind.

She chose to ignore it and focus on the task at hand.First thing, she needed to at least loosen her tie; it was getting harder to breathe. She pulled on the knot, choosing to just undo the whole thing. Taking a deep breath, she tossed the necktie to the floor behind her. She ran her hands through his black hair once, before gently taking hold of the collar of his outer shirt.

“May I… remove this?” She breathed.

“Y-yeah.” He helped her slip the white shirt off. She tossed it over to the foot of the bed, where the papers lay forgotten.

Naoto hesitated, focusing on his tank top.

“What’s wrong?” Kanji asked.

“Please, promise me that you aren’t and won’t go along with this simply because I want….” She trailed off. “If something makes you uncomfortable, or if you want to stop, please tell me. I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want.”

Kanji gently grabbed her chin, lightly tilting her head up as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“’Course,” he breathed. “But, you gotta promise, too. The moment things are weird fer ya or ya wanna stop, I’ll back off, too.”

“Mutual communication,” Naoto said.

“Uh, yeah. That.”

Naoto smiled softly at him, bringing one hand to her mouth, lightly kissing the back of it.

“Well, then,” she said, “now that we’ve established that we’re both going to behave as proper gentlemen, shall we continue?”

Kanji’s blush deepened—he always got flustered whenever she called him a gentleman, insisting that he could never fit the term, that she was a much better example, regardless of gender—but he said nothing, watching her. She kissed his hand again, then wrist, trailing up his arm slowly to the elbow, feeling the heated skin and the taut muscle under her lips. Her hand followed close behind, tracing the contours with her fingers.

She glanced at him again. He was looking at her in mild confusion, head tilted the slightest amount.

“I apologize; this probably is doing little to… arouse you.”

“’S cool. I just never knew ya liked my arms so much.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond—if she should mention that she had once been more jealous than admiring of them—so she simply dropped the limb and kissed him on the neck again. His breath quickened for a moment.

Naoto glanced at his ear—she recalled reading that the earlobe was a common erogenous zone—but hesitated to actually do anything. What information she’d found suggested light nuzzling with the lips and teeth, and—while the idea itself intrigued her—she wasn’t exactly eager to catch her lips on his earrings. This whole thing was already awkward enough—and was only going to get more so—without her cutting her lip open.

Besides, if the building heat she was pressed against—and was causing sweat to form on the back of her neck—was of any indication, then he would not last very long at the rate they were going.

She pulled on the bottom of his tank top, gently yanking it free from his pants.

“R-r-right,” Kanji stammered, before taking it from her, pulling the garment off over his head. He tossed it to the side, neither of them watching where it landed.

It was far from the first time she’d seen Kanji shirtless. From the incidents at the different hot springs, to the various trips to the beach the entire group had taken, to even a few, mildly awkward moments since they’d started dating, she’d seen Kanji’s bare chest numerous times. Yet, he still blushed and looked away after discarding his tank top.

She lightly ran her fingertips down his chest. He inhaled sharply.

“Naoto,” he said softly.

She locked gazes with him for a long moment, before glancing at his chest and back again. He nodded once. Permission granted, she pressed a kiss against one side of his chest. She trailed along the curve of the muscle, her lips coming to rest against his sternum, before placing her hands on his pectorals, slowly spreading her fingers over his skin.

“Naoto,” he repeated breathlessly.

She brushed a thumb over one of his nipples. He sharply tensed, jolting back.

“Sorry,” Naoto said, looking away.

“’S all right. Not everythin’s gonna… work, right?” He coughed. “I’m sure I’m gonna mess up, too. A lot.”

“I’m certain you will, er, do just fine.” She decided to continue, before his worry over his performance could make him even more nervous than he likely already was. She leaned up, lightly nuzzling the side of his neck. “Can you… lean back?”

“Uh…” Kanji hesitated, but complied, bending back slightly to rest on his elbows. “Y-you don’ gotta….”

His trail of thought was interrupted when she lightly stroked his abs with one hand. He inhaled, loud and slow, as she slipped her hand to the side to hold his waist. She slid back on his lap, away from his chest, permitting her to lean down to his stomach. When she pressed her lips against the muscles, just above the navel, he let out a low, long moan. She tensed for a moment, glancing up at his face. He was looking at her through half-lidded eyes, the burning greys too intense a gaze for her to hold. She returned her focus to his stomach.

She continued kissing each segment of the firm muscle. His stomach twitched under her touch. She felt his hand run through her hair, his fingers entangling themselves in the dark strands.

“Jeez, Naoto,” Kanji said through a ragged breath. “If I’d known ya wanted….” He trailed off.

Naoto sat up again, breaking from Kanji’s loose hold, her breath rapid and shallow. Her chest tightened, her lungs struggling to work properly. She felt the chill of each drop of sweat that dripped down the back of her neck, sending a series of shivers along her spine.

Kanji sat back up, placing a soft hand on her shoulder.

“Ya okay?” He asked.

“I am… fine.” She tried to steady her breathing. Between her binder, her long-sleeved shirt, and her tight waistcoat…. “I am… significantly… overdressed.”

“O-oh.” His eyes lit up, catching on instantly. “S-sure.” He hesitated, the flush tinting his cheeks darkening to his usual blush. “I-I can… yeah, I can….” He cleared his throat, before kissing her gently on the side of her neck. He nuzzled down to the edge of her shirt collar. His teeth scraped lightly against her skin.

Naoto inhaled sharply.

“Y-yes,” she rasped. “K-Kanji—m-my waistcoat—!” If her breathing became any more difficult—

“Right!” He exclaimed. He reached for the garment’s top edge. While he was able to grab the cloth, she could feel his hands shaking, unable to work the button.

Naoto placed her hands over his, her fingers trembling slightly on his skin. She looked at him, her grey-blue eyes locking with his. His hands steadied somewhat, and she guided them as they undid the button together, then the next, and the next, until they were all unfastened.

The relief was almost immediate, though not complete. Naoto was able to steady her breath significantly, though her chest still felt tight—though, admittedly, more than her clothes would justify.

“Are… are ya sure this is what ya want?” Kanji cupped her cheek in one hand. “Ya’ve never really, uh… been like this before. Not really.”

“You know that isn’t exactly accurate.”

“Sure, ya’ve gotten a little… handsy, but… not like this.” He paused. “I jus’ wanna…. You’re not jus’ doin’ this for me, right?”

 _He’s even more nervous about the idea of unintentionally pressuring me than I am of doing such to him,_ Naoto smiled to herself.

She kissed him, running a hand through his hair.

“Is it so difficult to believe that I… experience d-drive on my own?” She stammered through a slight smirk, trying to ignore the heat over her face.

“Uh, tha’s not wh-what I meant ta—!”

Naoto placed a finger over his mouth.

“I know.” She kissed him again, almost chaste, before she peeled off her open waistcoat, flinging it behind her. “Now then, would you be so kind as to assist me with my shirt, as well?”

Kanji stammered incoherently for a long moment, his blush overtaking most of his face, extending down to his neck. He cleared his throat before nodding.

“H-h-hell y-yeah….” He reached for the top button, his hands still shaking too hard to undo it. He cursed bitterly under his breath. “I’m tempted ta just tear these off and sew ‘em back on later.”

“And I’m certain my shirt’s integrity would be superior for it.” Naoto smiled again. “But, perhaps not today….” She guided his hands as they worked together, just like with the waistcoat. She heard his breath catch in his throat.

When they’d finished with the last button, and the shirt hung completely open over her chest, they suddenly found themselves each fascinated with a segment of nearby wall.

“Forgive me; I’m certain you had… other expectations as to….” Naoto cleared her throat.

“I dunno what I expected,” Kanji said. “Not the, uh, usual, ‘course. Uh, I mean, _traditional;_ usual fer you. Today, ‘specially.” He groaned in frustration. “I ain’t sayin’ any of this right.”

“I understand your intent,” Naoto said.

“Not gonna lie,” Kanji continued. “It’s… simpler than I thought it would be.”

Naoto glanced at him again. Kanji was trying to pretend that he wasn’t looking at the tan-colored tank top-like garment. The others—particularly Rise—had likely led him to believe that it would be something excessively complicated in design.

“Such things often are,” Naoto said.

“C-can I—?” He started.

Naoto suddenly felt particularly self-conscious.

“I-if you’d—”

“Can I leave it for now?” Kanji cut her off quickly.

“What?” Naoto looked at him in the eye.

“D-don’ get me wrong; I ain’t sayin’ that… what I mean is….” He exhaled. “This is how ya chose… fer today. So, uh….”

Naoto understood. Or, at least, she felt certain that she understood the general idea he was trying to communicate.

“Very well. May I reserve the right to change my mind later?”

“’Course!” Kanji said. “Ya always do.”

“Help me finish with this?” Naoto shrugged one shoulder.

“S-sure,” Kanji said slowly. He gently took a hold of the white shirt by the collar, pulling it down and off of her arms. He exhaled, slow and loud, before tossing the shirt to the head of the bed, where it landed on her pillow. “C-can I t-touch…?”

Naoto looked away, but nodded once.

Kanji responded by raising his hands and gingerly wrapped them around her, just below her compressed breasts. Gentle. His hands were always gentle. The same hands she’d seen punch an enemy into a blubbering mess or snap a Shadow’s bones and had never once been raised against or used to harm her. The hands that so delicately knitted a scarf or sewed a plush animal with great detail and craftsmanship. She knew she could expect the same attention and care, here and now.

She tensed when his thumbs brushed over her bound breasts.

“You ‘kay?”

“It is fine.” Naoto shook her head. “It is simply… strange.” She felt the heat in her gut spread, despite the otherwise minimal effect of the touch.

Kanji leaned forward, nuzzling her neck again, as he slowly ran his hands down her sides to her hips, his thumbs lightly massaging her stomach. He nudged her chin with his nose, tipping it up. She leaned back slightly, gasping lightly from the feel of his thumbs brushing against the edge of her pants. He pressed his lips against the underside of her jaw, kissing along the bone, up to her ear. He lightly tugged on her lobe with his teeth.

Naoto moaned.

“K-Kanji,” she breathed.

He released her, leaning away from her slightly. They looked at each other though half-closed eyes.

“Your forehead is perspiring.” Naoto tried to ignore how hot her skin felt, how it was prickling along her spine, how she was starting to ache with a need she was still nervous to voice.

“So are you,” Kanji said before swallowing hard. Yes, that was true, wasn’t it? It would explain the cool streams of moisture sending chills across her forehead and face, her arms, even down her back, under her binder.

Naoto tried to think for a moment, her thoughts muddled—that ache was attempting to drown everything else out—before she simply stopped trying. She grabbed Kanji’s face in both hands, giving him a hard look. They both leaned in quickly, kissing each other in a more frantic manner than before, Naoto gripping his hair. His hands slipped past her hips, gripping her backside and pushing their hips closer together. They both moaned against each other’s lips. Regardless of the layers of clothing left—too many, perhaps—she was very much aware of the firm heat she was pressed against.

Kanji broke the kiss first.

“S-sorr—”

“Trousers,” Naoto cut him off.

“Wh-what?”

Naoto pressed the side of her face against his neck.

“M-may I re-remove—?” She inhaled sharply, her throat suddenly sore. “M-m-may I… t-touch you?”

Kanji entire body went rigid.

“I’m dreaming,” he whispered hoarsely. “This ‘as gotta be a dream; you ain’t ever say somethin’ like that… _like that_.” He paused. “I-I’m dreamin’ and it’s one helluva crazy dream and I’m goin’ ta Hell fer it.”

Naoto chuckled, the light motion releasing some of the tension that was building in her shoulders. Kanji pulled back, looking at her with obvious confusion.

“Yer makin’ fun of me, ain’t ya?” Kanji almost sounded hurt. Maybe he was.

“Not at all,” Naoto found her ability to speak had recovered somewhat. “If you are uncomfortable with… my request, then you are more than welcome to—”

“Nah, I—!” Kanji interrupted. He looked away. Naoto focused her gaze on her boyfriend’s chest, noting the flushed tone of the skin. He cleared his throat before looking back at her; seeing the motion from the corner of her eye, she looked back at him. He pressed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “I-if ya want to… then, I want ya to. I just….” He exhaled slowly, removing his hand to wipe his glistening forehead. He frowned. “I’m gonna disappoint ya, probably a lot.”

“Kanji, I am not expecting you to be unreasonably proficient; I am aware that I—despite my research—have little understanding of… how to… perform, not beyond the obvious elements. If we communicate, however, and work t-together, it can still be an… overall enjoyable experience. I… it has not been unpleasant for me thus far, so it is a r-reasonable deduction that you are performing more than satisfactorily.” She paused, licking her drying lips while she attempted to find something to say. “So. Sh-shall I?”

Kanji leaned forward again, lightly placing his head on top of hers, gently entangling his fingers in her hair. She felt him nod against her.

“P-please.”

Naoto pulled on the white belt, carefully undoing its buckle, drawing it from the loops of his trousers one loop at a time. She dropped it to the floor, before focusing on the button of his slacks. Despite the tremble in her fingers, she was able to get it undone with general ease. The sound of him taking a long, deep breath nearly drowned out the sound of her undoing the zipper. She pressed a hand against his stomach, her fingers brushing against the edge of his boxers.

“Please.”

Emboldened, she slipped her hand under the band. Her hand brushed against him, resulting in a sharp gasp from both of them. She forced herself to swallow the nerves building in her throat, and wrapped her hand around the heat.

“N-Naoto!” He moaned against her hair.

The ache in her own loins intensified. She slowly stroked him, the heat tensing further under her touch. She could hear his breath shorten to quick huffs, each one hot against her head. She felt excitement prickle at the back of her neck, despite how mildly ridiculous her current actions felt.

She found it rather strange, really, that such a light touch could excite him like that. Almost as strange as the fact that his reaction was exciting her just about as much.

She continued the motion almost absent-mindedly, far more fascinated with the way his fingers twitched in her hair, or the sound of his breathing becoming more irregular and desperate above her, than with the increasingly hot, firm length in her loose grip.

“Naoto.” Kanji’s voice was barely audible. She shivered. Her grip on him tightened. He suddenly gripped her wrist, causing her to let him go in surprise. “Naoto.”

“What’s wrong?” Naoto focused her gaze on his chest. It glistened softly with sweat in the light. “Is this not—?”

“Nah, it’s….” He exhaled slowly, the action ruffling her hair the slightest amount. “It’s… freakin’ awesome. Just….” Kanji slowly pulled her hand out from his boxers. “I… I dunno how….” He cleared his throat. “H-how far d’ya wanna go?”

She pulled her hand out of his gentle hold.

_Of course. His lack of experience also means less… stamina. He has already demonstrated worry over his ability to… perform to my liking._

But, as for his question—her body ached with need—not a completely unfamiliar sensation, but one she had never shared with another person before. What her body wanted was clear—to continue this build-up to its conclusion, no matter the method—but what _she_ wanted was a different story. Perhaps. Or, perhaps not.

She didn’t want to stop. As awkward as the whole thing had been so far, and as embarrassed as they both were, she still was enjoying it, and wanted it to continue. But, as he’d asked, how far? Part of her wanted to get the whole thing over with today—it was not as if there weren’t other explorations they could experiment with later, and she had made the proper preparations—but, she didn’t want to rush him—and thus _them_ —into something he wasn’t ready for.

“I’m not sure,” she finally settled on. “What do you—?”

He tilted her chin up with his thumb, interrupting her with a kiss. His lips worked hungrily against hers, but he broke the contact after only a few moments. She only caught a glimpse of his red face, before he engulfed her in a gentle hug, pressing her against his flushed chest, his head resting lightly on top of hers again.

“Y-yeah. I-I mean. I-if you’re cool… I’m c-cool. Ya know?” He paused. “I’ve kinda… wanted this… a while. D-deep down. I mean, I pretty much jus’ begged ya ta touch my dick, so….” He coughed. “Wow, never thought I’d say that.”

Naoto wasn’t certain how to respond. Except, that he had basically just said that he wanted more than foreplay. And, she knew she did, too. They had what they needed to be responsible about it, and they were communicating.

 _To hell with it_ , Naoto allowed herself the mental slip, deciding that the best way to deal with her nerves was to take control.

She gripped his trousers by the belt loops, entangling one in each hand. She gave a light but firm tug with both.

“Y-yeah!” Kanji spoke with an almost-pained inflection. “Okay.” He sat up slightly, doing what he could to help. It wasn’t easy, especially since she didn’t really leave his lap, only sitting up onto her knees briefly to get out of the way, but they were able to work together to get his slacks off.

His erection was utterly impossible for either of them to ignore now, the curved pressure clearly visible even under the cloth of his purple-plaid boxers. Naoto moved closer, pressing up against him again. He moaned against her hair. Taking it as encouragement, she shifted her hips, lightly grinding against him.

Kanji jerked back with a strangled groan, gripping her by her outer thighs and lightly pushing her away.

“Whoa, Naoto, r-relax. I dunno how much of that I can take.”

“O-of course, I apologize.” She focused on the pillow at the head of her bed.

“Nah, it’s… it’s cool. Jus’ dun wanna… finish too early.”

 _Dear God_ , Naoto refrained from chuckling. _We must be amongst the most maladroit couples to attempt a sexual relationship_.

“Then,” she said in a low voice, “perhaps we should shift focus.” She looked at him, lightly gripping his chin and tilting it to look down at her.

“Huh?” He blinked at her, before his face lit up, his flushed ears darkening again. “Oh. Oh! Y-yeah, I can do that—I mean—okay!” He slid his hands up her thighs again, loosely gripping her rear. “O-oh, uh,” he stammered, “is it okay if I—? I-I mean, I’m just gonna—I mean, can I pick ya up? To, uh—?”

“It is all right,” she cut him off.

Kanji nodded, strengthening his hold on her. He slowly slid off of the bed, standing back up. He stumbled slightly, causing her head to rush, but he managed to keep from dropping her.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he gradually turned around. “Knees.”

Naoto didn’t respond; an embarrassed heat erupted across her face and chest as Kanji lay her down on her bed, this time length-wise, her head resting upon her pillow. He gingerly joined her, climbing over her at an unhurried pace, keeping his body clear of hers, not letting his hands or knees—which were supporting him—even brush against her. She looked up at him, holding his clearly nervous gaze.

To be honest, she wasn’t particularly thrilled with this position. It was more difficult to feel in control of the situation—but she hoped it would grant him a bit more confidence.

It seemed to be working on that end, if she were to judge by the manner in which he leaned down and began nuzzling her neck. She murmured incoherently in what she hoped was an encouraging manner. He apparently caught on, lightly nipping at her collarbone. She bit down on her lip to muffle a moan, wrapping her hands around his neck and one leg around his waist to pull him down against her. He yelped softly.

“Was tha’ good or bad?” He asked, mouth pressed against her shoulder by her firm hold.

“Y-yes,” she stammered. Her mind was far too jumbled to form a more eloquent or direct response.

Kanji gave a short huff, before leaning up again, breaking from her grip with little effort. He moved down to have his face level with her stomach. He placed a single hand on the cloth of her full-length binder still covering it.

“C-can I—?” He started. He looked up at her, before glancing away. “Just… roll up… a little?”

Naoto was suddenly very much aware of how much of her body was still covered—thanks to both her binder and her trousers—and how little of Kanji’s was. Anxiety started to build, forming a chill in her chest. Without her clothes she felt… exposed and vulnerable. Even in the solitude of her apartment, she never went without them longer than necessary; she’d never been fully comfortable joining the other girls at a bath, either, despite her trust in them. Yet….

Yet, this was Kanji, whom she loved and trusted explicitly. He’d been more than vulnerable with her, even crying openly when alone with her on more than one occasion. She wanted to be on equal ground with him, and she knew that she could let her guard down with him. Besides, she wanted this. Nothing worth gaining came without cost. It wasn’t as if Kanji would judge or hurt her; on the contrary, he was far more likely to get himself hurt than risk harm coming to her, physically or emotionally. And had, in the past. He loved her, and she loved him. They both wanted this.

Today, that was enough for her.

“Yes,” she breathed. “P-please do.”

Permission granted, he carefully pulled the bottom of the garment out from under her slacks, rolling the form-fitting cloth up to slowly expose her stomach. She looked away at first, until the light touch of his hands against her skin made her flinch.

“Wha’s wrong?” Kanji asked.

“Your… hands are cold.” She looked at him for a brief, almost tense moment, before they both chuckled. “I’m sorry. I suppose we’re both a bit nervous.”

“If ya change your mind, I can…”

“I haven’t.”

Kanji nodded, but said nothing before returning his focus to her stomach. He kissed her, just above the edge of her belt, his thumbs slightly tracing what contours of her hips were visible. She inhaled sharply at the almost dizzying rush. It was bizarre, how such a light, simple touch could invoke such a reaction in her. A deep voice in the back of her mind begged her to just be done with it, to tear off what remained of their clothes and finish the job already. The logical part of her was still dominant, however, and knew that they needed to be patient.

Not that Kanji was wasting time, though. As he worked his mouth and, very cautiously, his teeth against her skin—causing her to squirm slightly beneath him—his hands slowly worked their way to her belt. They were still trembling, but he had a much easier time than with her shirt, managing to undo the buckle on his own. She felt the cool air creep under the cloth, as he unclasped the button of her pants—not even bothering to pull the belt out from the loops.

He looked at the zipper for a moment— _Right, that is the next step, isn’t it?_ —before he gingerly took a hold of it between his teeth. A shiver shot up her spine at the sight. He unzipped it the slightest amount, before releasing it with a sheepish expression.

“I dun think I can do that without bustin’ my lip. Sorry.”

Naoto stammered something she hoped sounded consoling. He looked at her, taking the zipper in his lightly shaking hand instead. She nodded. The cold air seeped further against her as he unzipped her the rest of the way.

“Y-ya w-w-wanna h-help me?” Kanji’s voice trembled even worse than his hands. She ran one hand through his hair, before aiding him in pulling her slacks off, exposing her dark blue underwear. She didn’t wear men’s boxers anymore, instead opting for a style not unlike boxer briefs, though a shorter, lower cut that fit her somewhat feminine form more closely. She heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor, but was already preoccupied.

She looked away, toward the wall against the side of the bed. She’d forgotten.

“’Sup?” He asked, after two attempts to choke out a coherent sound.

“I am… admittedly… a little, er, self-conscious. About my legs, I mean.”

“What about ‘em?” Kanji backed away some and lifted one with one hand, as if to inspect it. He pressed the side of her calf against his cheek. “I th-think they’re great. Y-you’re great. B-beautiful. Uh, ha-handsome, too. Wh-whichever. B-both.”

“You’re far too kind.” She smiled warmly at him. He didn’t even seem to notice that she hadn’t shaved them—she very rarely did. But, then, of course he wouldn’t care about the thin, dark hairs. This was Kanji. As he’d just said, he adored everything about her—even the quirks that rightfully drove him mad. _Well, then, if he isn’t going to protest, neither shall I._ “I… appreciate the notion, regardless. Y-you… are… quite a-attractive as w-well.” She looked away, her face burning.

He drew himself up to be even with her face again, kissing her briefly.

“I love you,” he whispered against her hair. She murmured her usual reply, pressing her check against him. “Uh,” he continued, pulling away again. “I guess I, uh, should… yeah.”

“That is a… common form of… progression, yes.” Naoto fought to keep her voice steady. “If… if you would like.”

“Okay. Then, I’ll just….” Kanji trailed off for a moment. “I’ll just… yeah.” He pressed a kiss against her shoulder before slowly nuzzling his way back down, taking care to avoid her still-bound breasts. He stopped at the band of her underwear. “Uh.” He looked back up at her.

“Please don’t stop now.” The hot ache between her legs was quite insistent now, to the point that it was nearly unbearable.

Kanji gave a short chuckle. He toyed briefly with the band, before running his hand along the outside of the fabric. She quivered under the touch, inhaling sharply. He stopped, looking at the underside of her underwear.

“Uh,” he started. “I-I guess ya r-really are excited, huh?”

What on earth did he—?

 _Oh._ Right. Naoto hadn’t really noticed, perhaps a due to subconscious choice out of embarrassment to ignore it. But, the wetness that had been—and was—building under that heat had to be at least minimally visible through the cloth by now.

She looked away.

“Is that… a problem?”

“What? Nah, it’s… f-freakin’ awesome.” He cleared his throat loudly. “R-right. Then. I’m… yeah.”

Before she can ask him to clarify—which would have been an obvious answer, anyway—she felt the pressure of his finger against the fabric—against her. He rubbed slowly.

“Guuuh,” she groaned, unable to even form a single-syllable word. She stared up at the ceiling, unable to focus on even the subtle pattern above, only on the light pressure against her, and the much more intense pressure it was building in her. “Y-yes!” She eventually choked.

Encouraged, Kanji repeated the motion several times, working a little faster each time, until she rasped his name, her voice almost raw. Her chest tightened. He stopped, moving his still-trembling hands back to the band at her hips.

“W-wait,” Naoto stopped him. “C-can’t… can’t….” Her chest was too tight.

“Wha’s wrong?” She heard the worry in his voice.

“Breathe,” she managed to say. “Can’t… breathe… right. H-help….”

“Do y-ya want me to t-take that off?” He asked, before pulling lightly on the rolled-up portion of her binder. “This?”

“Yes. Need…. Breathe.”

The last word wasn’t even completely out of her mouth before he was at the side of the garment, ripping the velcro apart. Relief was nearly instantaneous, her airway clearing again. She thought she’d left it loose enough to breathe comfortably; maybe it was still too tight for _this_.

She pulled the binder the rest of the way off, tossing it aside half-heartedly. She took a long, deep breath and gave a few, solid coughs, making sure her airway was clear. She looked up at Kanji, who was very pointedly staring at the nearby wall.

“I won’ look if ya dun want me to.”

Naoto bit back a chuckle, before taking one of his hands by the wrist and gently pressing it against one of her freed breasts. He froze for a moment before sharply turning his head to look at her. Then, slowly, down at his hand. He inhaled.

Their size was probably poorly demonstrated in her current position, lying flat on her back; gravity worked like that. But, Kanji didn’t seem to care, utterly mesmerized by both the one in his hand and the exposed one. His face was still red, the blush—or flush, Naoto couldn’t tell anymore—an even deeper shade. He brought his other hand up to cup the exposed breast, his thumbs brushing against the underside of both until they reached her nipples.

“K-Kanji!” She blurted. Perhaps they were too sensitive. Or, perhaps she just had more urgent matters that needed attending to. “Kanji, please.” She shifted her hips.

“O-okay.” He released her, bringing his hands back down to her underwear. He gripped the band with two fingers on each side, and slowly pulled. By the time he’d gotten them past her ankles and off, she’d instinctively clamped her legs shut, revealing little more than the neatly-trimmed area of short dark hair. She draped one arm over her eyes. She felt his hands on her legs, his thumbs lightly massaging her thighs.

She exhaled slowly, before parting them. She didn’t move her arm, leaving her world dark. She heard Kanji exclaim under his breath. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind when she felt his fingers comb through the patch of hair. His nervous trembling would have been even more reassuring, if it weren’t for that desperate ache. She breathed his name again. He complied, bringing his hand lower. One finger brushed against her, gradually parting her. Naoto—sight still blocked by her arm—sank her head further against the pillow with a loud gasp, arching her hips up a slight amount.

“Oh, wow,” she heard him whisper to himself. She couldn’t even respond to it; even against her bed, she felt dizzy, her thoughts a muddled haze, and her heart was beating so hard, she could feel the blood pounding in her ears. Her arm trembled over her face. It was impossible to focus on anything but that finger cautiously exploring and rubbing against her. She wanted to tell him where to focus, how to keep from fumbling around to find—but she could barely breathe against the pleasure the light friction sent through her, let alone speak.

He managed to find her clit anyway, his fingernail barely brushing against the hooded nub. Naoto made a choking sound.

“Th-there!” She fought back tears. “R-right there.”

He responded by rubbing against it—too hard, sending a jolt of pain up through her.

“No, d-don’t—!” She said. “Don’t j-just r-rub.”

He complied, varying the action, though keeping his focus near that spot, making circular motions in addition to the light massaging. Her body burned under the touch, sending hot jolts up through her lower body. She could feel the liquid heat beginning to pool just below her stomach. She moaned, her breath coming in short, shallow, rapid bursts, sweat streaming down her forehead and face.

She nearly choked when she felt a second finger gently trace her entrance. Without removing the pressure on her clit, he slowly massaged the area around her hole. She quivered violently under his touch. She could hear the wet sound of his fingers working against her. He said something, maybe her name, but she couldn’t make it out, not through the blood pulsing against her ears or over her moans from each touch. She felt his finger barely—likely accidentally—press the slightest bit into her, as his other finger nudged against her nub, just under the hood.

It was as if something broke.

She made a strangled noise, sinking most of her body ever further down against the bed as she arched her lower back up against him. She’d removed her arm from her face, but her vision swirled to black as the boiling heat in her lower abdomen erupted, sending ripples of burning electricity throughout it. She couldn’t hear anything but the static crackling in her ears, or feel anything but that warmth pulsating through her lower body. She didn’t even know if she was tensed to a complete still or if she was twitching and jerking—she had an odd feeling that both were somehow happening.

Eventually, things cooled enough that her senses started to return. The first thing she noticed were hands, one holding her cheek, the other gently combing through her hair.

 _Of course_ , she thought to herself, her vision gradually sharpening back into focus. Kanji was looking down at her with mild concern.

“Are ya okay?” He asked, his face still pink.

Her entire body felt warm, despite how cold she knew it was that day. Every muscle was either relaxed or was starting to ease into relaxation. She could feel the euphoric buzz of endorphins in her skull—not unlike the adrenaline from a fight, though significantly better. She gave him a small smile.

“…Fantastic,” she eventually settled on.

“Oh!” His expression lit up in realization, his blush deepening again. “Th-that’s awesome!” He paused. “Uh.”

“I’m certain you’d like… my assistance as well.”

“Uh, you dun hafta—!”

“So, you wouldn’t?”

“No, I—I mean, that’d be—!” He stammered.

“I’m not going to lie; it was my intent to… follow through… completely… from the beginning.”

“Oh,” he said for the umpteenth time. “Y-ya mean…?”

“I mean,” she said with a small nod. “I-I think I’m… going to need a minute or two, though.” Her muscles didn’t really want to respond at the moment.

“S-sure.”

“In the drawer… of my bedside… if you… want to… prepare.” She spoke slowly but steadily, as her breathing recovered.

“Huh?” He blinked at her. “Oh, yeah. That. Right. I… I can do that.”

“There are… instructions. I’ve purchased various… types and sizes of… the condoms. Please….”

“O-of course.” He let go of her, standing up off of the bed and out of her sight.

She stared at the ceiling for a few, long moments, listening to the sound of him rummaging through the drawer and tearing open the boxes inside. He muttered to himself as he read each one, his words barely incoherent. She heard the shuffling of fabric.

 _That would be his boxers_ , she realized.

They were really doing this. Already had, technically, as the softening buzz in her head reminded her.

“Fuck.” She heard him cursing repeatedly to himself. He was tossing something in the trashcan, before she heard him tearing something.

Perhaps he was struggling to get a condom on.

She took a deep breath, before pushing herself up to sit a bit more properly. Her skin still prickled lightly.

“Would… you like some help?” She could almost breathe normally again—or as close to it as she’d managed while she and her boyfriend were both fully unclothed.

“No, I, uh, I think I got it.” He was standing in front of her, his back to her, his neck bent slightly to look down. He had a very well-built backside, she noted, heat spreading across the bridge of her nose again. “I’m pretty sure I got this right. Size and stuff, I mean.”

“Kanji?”

“It’s freakin’ orange,” he muttered.

Naoto laughed softly.

“Really?” She felt ridiculous, but the nerves that had built at the base of her neck relaxed. “C-can I…?”

“Huh?” Kanji looked back at her. He ran one hand through his hair, glancing sheepishly at the ground. “I mean, sure. Guess you’re gonna hafta eventually, right? Just… I ain’t nothing special or even…. Small fer a tall guy, too.” He turned around.

If he was on the small end for a man his height—Naoto’s previous research had been relatively inconclusive, with various sources claiming different averages, though he appeared to be in the general range—then she was thankful. He had to be over fifteen centimeters from base to tip—and the entire length was indeed covered in a bright orange color. The nerves that had been at the base of her neck built up again from the sight, and she was suddenly very much aware of their size difference.

Even if he _was_ small, proportionally speaking, would she be able to take that?

She took a deep breath. There was really only one way to find out.

She stood up, staggering slightly. He gently grabbed her by the arms, helping her gain her balance.

“You okay?”

“I am fine,” she said. Her knees were still a little weak. She looked at him, before turning back to face the bed. “A-as are you.” She cleared her throat. “I-if you’d like… you can l-lie down, now.”

“Huh?” Kanji sounded confused.

“Th-this will be easier if… if I’m the… one on top,” she said. “To put it in simplest terms.”

“Okay,” Kanji said. “I ain’t gonna argue.” He slipped past her to follow her request. “Like this?” He was in generally the same position she had been just a minute before. Except he was taller. And wider. And—

Naoto tried to ignore his bright orange hard-on. Or, maybe she shouldn’t. Wasn’t that part of the whole point?

She suddenly burst into sputtering laughter.

“What?” Kanji sat up a little, leaning back on one elbow. “Whadaya laughing at?”

“I’m sorry,” she tried to recover. “It really is very… orange.”

He looked away, pouting slightly.

“I told ya,” he mumbled. “I can try ta find a different—!”

“It’s fine,” Naoto cut him off. “It really doesn’t matter, after all. I don’t mind orange.” She paused. “At least it’s not pink. Or red.”

Kanji blinked at her for a moment, before chuckling, mumbling his agreement.

There was a brief moment of silence, as Naoto tried to remember what her research told her was the proper way to go about this. She crossed her arms, covering her breasts. By this point, she was hardly ashamed, but she still found herself wishing it was safe to wear her binder; the garment did assist with her nerves.

She walked to her bedside table, reaching in the still-open drawer. She pulled out a translucent, purple plastic bottle. They would need this. She handed it to him. He held the bottle close to his face. He sputtered briefly.

“We’re going to need this.” Naoto said. “Even if it weren’t our… first attempt, there is still… a significant… height difference between us. Regardless of your beliefs on your size, we are going to need help.”

His eyebrows curved in worry.

“I’m… I’m not going to hurt you, am I?” Kanji said. “I dun wan—!”

“As long as we’re careful and patient,” Naoto said, “no harm will come to me. There is no need to concern yourself.” She paused. “There is still no guarantee this won’t have some mild discomfort at first, though—for either of us. That’s what the lubrication is for.”

“Right. So, uh. H-how d’ya want me ta…?”

Naoto raised an eyebrow.

“One typically uses their hands—or, in this case, the fingers, specifically.”

“Right.”

“A-actually.” Naoto held out her hand. “On second thought, if I may…?” He handed the bottle back to her. “It might be best if I… handle this. So to speak.” She frowned at her unintentional pun. “If you’d like to… sit up… you could lean your back against the wall at the end of—and you can use my pillow if it’s… too hard. Or cold.”

“Hard, yeah,” Kanji said as he followed the advice, sitting back against the wall, using her pillow as a cushion. “Cold, no,” he added with a nervous laugh.

Naoto scowled at him.

“That was terrible.” She sat down on the bed, kneeling on the opposite end.

“It was too easy.” He paused again. “Gotta distract myself from the fact that I kinda gotta orange dick right now, right?”

“Perhaps this will assist with that.” Naoto opened the bottle, pouring a generous amount of the lubricant on her fingers. She inhaled sharply. “It’s cold.”

“Y-you’re gonna… right in front of me?” Kanji’s amazement was undeniable, from his tone to the way he was staring at her, his eyes wide.

She hadn’t felt self-conscious about the notion before, but now that he mentioned it, it sent a shiver down her spine. Right. Part of her was nervous, until her logical side—which was still a loud majority—reminded her that not only would this make her plan much easier, Kanji had already seen what she was—to use the phrase—packing, just a few minutes prior.

“Will that be… a problem?”

Kanji simply shook his head, biting his lip. His face was probably redder than hers—it was a wonder that there was enough blood elsewhere in his body to even maintain an erection.

“All right, then. I’ll not waste time.” She looked away. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t aware—more or less—where her entrance was, but her nerves made it a little difficult to focus and she jabbed herself a couple of times before she managed to find it with her slick finger. The area just outside was still rather sensitive, and she shivered with a loud groan as she slowly slipped one finger in, the lube extremely cold against the heated muscle.

“D-d’ya want me ta… help, somehow?” Kanji asked.

She shook her head. As much as she did want him to touch her in some manner or another, she wasn’t sure if she could handle the sensory overload it would likely cause; she was still very sensitive all over. She didn’t voice any of it, however, simply working her finger in the familiar manner. After a moment, she withdrew it to reapply a small dab of the lubricant, this time using two fingers.

There was nothing unfamiliar about the sensation; it wasn’t something she did on a very regular basis, but she had previously found it could be of great help at the end of the day, to release the stress and tension her life could build up within her. What was unfamiliar, however was the voice in the back of her head reminding her that, in a few moments, it wouldn’t be her fingers working inside of her, or the sound of Kanji panting nearby, breathing “oh wow, holy shit” repeatedly. Before she knew it, she was nearly as breathless, pulling her hand away from herself and looking back at him. She was going to ask if he needed help readying himself, but the hard, blazing look he gave her told her that he most certainly did not.

She slid closer in front of him and poured some more of the cool liquid into her shaking palm. She motioned her head lightly towards his dick. He nodded, and she gingerly wrapped her hand around him, rubbing the lube against the condom. Kanji inhaled through his clenched jaw before letting out a low, long moan.

“P-please….” he mewled, knocking his head back against the wall. The desperation in his voice made a burst of courage build up in her stomach, igniting the reemerging heat in her loins into a raging fire. She wanted him. Now.

“Maybe I should stop,” she couldn’t help but say in the lowest voice she could manage, smirking at him.

“No—please!” He begged.

She leaned forward, bringing herself over him to kiss him on the cheek and then lips. Despite their situation, the contact was light and nearly chaste.

“All… all right.” She exhaled slowly. “I-if you’re sure. Just… try to not…. What I mean is… just… let me take it slow, yes?”

“H-hell yeah.”

She reached down and lightly grabbed him, lowering her body to nearly touch the tip. She looked up at him. They both took a nervous breath, and nodded. She held him still, while she slowly brought her entrance down to meet him. They gasped in unison as she started to push down around his tip.

She could feel his covered heat pressing against her, the muscle expanding around it to accommodate him. She gripped his shoulder with her free hand, stopping and trembling as she groaned softly.

“Ya ‘kay?” His voice was barely audible. She nodded.

“J-just… need to… adjust… get used to….” He felt even bigger than he looked; she wasn’t going to say it, but it was actually mildly uncomfortable as her body tried to adjust to his presence, let alone his size. She wasn’t quite sure how he was going to fit, but damn it, she was too stubborn to give up now. She knew that if she told him to stop—even now—he would, but she had wanted this—still did—and she was determined to see it through.

She felt his hands wrap themselves around her hips, his head resting on top of hers.

“Take ya time,” he breathed. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

She took another deep breath with a nod, before slowly working her way down him, stopping a couple of times to adjust herself against him. The heat expanded throughout her entire pelvis as he gradually filled her, making her whole body shudder in response. She could feel him panting against her hair, moaning a few times, his hips twitching against her in an obvious struggle to keep from thrusting the rest of the way.

Eventually she had taken most of him within her; she wanted to avoid the pain that would likely occur if she pushed him in too deep—a risk that their seated position had as the cost for the control it granted her. It made her think of how she’d felt heat pool inside her before, except now that heat physically existed, firmly pressing against her inner muscles, and—even through the condom, his warmth radiated through her, adding to what she already felt. She looked up at him, struggling to keep her breath at a regular, though shallow, pace. He brought one hand to her face, cupping her cheek and kissing her. She moaned against his lips before they parted.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, I ever tell ya that?” Kanji sighed against her hair again.

“Interesting… choice of words.”

They chuckled.

“Okay,” she breathed. “I think… I think I have this… under control… more or less.”

“Ya sure ya got it?”

“Y-yes.” She nodded. “Are you… all right if I…?”

“R-right now,” Kanji said, “you could ask to stab me in the gut with glass, and I’d prob’ly say yes.” He exhaled. “You have no idea.”

“I might.” She adjusted herself some against him. He inhaled loudly. Encouraged, she lifted herself a short distance off of him, just a few centimeters and slowly sank back down.

“ _Ffffffuck…._ ” He clenched his jaw again. The sound of his voice, the pitch rising a little higher than normal, moaning against every little motion she made, gave her even more of a rush than the friction that her movement was building. Emboldened by his reactions, she lifted herself again, nearly all the way off, before slowly sliding back down.

A loud airy vibration made both of them freeze and look at each other. They broke into nervous laughter, looking away.

“I… I suppose I… should attempt a different… angle, to prevent air from….” She coughed once.

“Do whatcha gotta do,” Kanji said. “It don’t really bother me.”

She nodded, before moving against him again, altering the angle of her body to prevent the sound from repeating as she rode him with long, slow strokes. Her body was now more or less adjusted to him, and the pressure each action built against her sent a shockwave through her abdomen. He responded to her movement by thrusting his hips up to meet hers. They gradually built an irregular rhythm, not quite matching each other, as they worked themselves into a frenzy, huffing, moaning, and groaning with each stroke. She heard him whimper her name repeatedly against her hair.

They only lasted a couple of minutes before Kanji suddenly took a loud, ragged breath, tightening his hold on her hips, pulling her firmly against him, keeping her from moving further. He choked on her name one last time. She felt him pulsing and quivering inside her.

 _Oh_ , she realized through her haze. _Of course._

He tried to regain his breath.

“I… I… need to…” he tried to speak. Instead, he used his body weight to softly lean her onto her back, pulling out with another groan.

She looked up at him, watching as he fell backwards, half-against the bed, half-against the wall, breathing slowly. He pulled the condom off, tying it closed and tossing it into the nearby trashcan.

“Damn it,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“It is all right,” she crawled up next to him, curling against his side. “We’ll both get better with practice. Besides, you were… more than adequate earlier.”

He wrapped one arm around her, pressing her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head.

“Thanks for… everything.” He breathed. “You’re… amazing.”

“Your gratitude is unnecessary,” she murmured. She knew that he would help her with the heat that remained pooled in her pelvis if she asked, but she also wanted to stay where she was, in this peaceful moment. It would cool off shortly, anyway.

She heard the sound of paper rustling. She looked up at him again. He was picking up one of the papers she’d printed earlier, reading it.

“Wow,” he said in a tired voice. “Ya looked up a lot for this, huh?”

“I wanted to make sure that our options were clear to both of us, so that we could agree on… whatever made us both happy.”

“I… wow,” he breathed. Then, he tensed. “What? Pegging?” He almost sounded worried. “Just how much did ya get for all of this?”

She grabbed the paper out of his hand, lightly pressing it against his face.

“I hadn’t initially planned on… today going quite… like this.” Naoto pressed her head against his chest again. “Not that I hadn’t wanted our relationship to progress in such a manner, of course.”

“I… okay.” He said slowly. Kanji sighed, holding her closer.

Naoto listened to the sound of his heartbeat slowly return to its normal pace.

“You know?” Kanji said eventually. “That might not be such a bad idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> I turned off the privacy settings; this was originally only viewable by logged-in members. This was initially due to how I know NSFW isn't everyone's cup of tea and I wanted to make it easier for the causal viewer to ignore it without registering. I guess I changed my mind? Dunno.


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